Siem Reap: Vespa Countryside Tour with Local Crafts & Food

5.00

(162 reviews)

What’s the experience like?

Eyes barely open, I’m already on the back of a Vespa, engine humming under me as we slip out of Siem Reap’s busy streets. The air smells like wet earth and something faintly sweet — maybe jasmine? Our guide, Dara, waves at nearly everyone we pass. First stop is this old Buddhist temple where monks in saffron robes move quietly between incense smoke and faded murals. Dara shows us how to press our palms together for a blessing. I didn’t expect the monk’s voice to be so gentle — or that I’d feel oddly calm after he tied that red thread on my wrist.

We keep riding, bouncing a little over potholes, and end up at a tiny noodle workshop. The women inside are laughing while their hands work fast — rice flour everywhere, warm steam rising from big pots. Dara tries to explain the process but honestly I’m distracted by the smell (like toasted rice) and the way one lady grins when I try to say “num banh chok.” Li laughed when I tried to say it in Mandarin — probably butchered it. We taste some sticky rice cake wrapped in bamboo leaves; it’s chewy and just sweet enough.

The Vespa takes us further out, past water buffalo and kids waving from dusty paths. At West Baray reservoir there’s this weird hush — just wind across the water and a few fishermen mending nets. We don’t stay long because next is basket village. The women here are all business but still manage to tease each other (and us) as we fumble with palm leaves trying to make something that doesn’t look totally sad. My attempt was… not great. But they clapped anyway.

Last stop is a family-run rice wine distillery tucked behind someone’s house. It smells sharp and earthy — like fermented fruit left in the sun too long but not in a bad way? The owner pours us tiny glasses and explains how his father taught him everything he knows before beer took over Cambodia. The ride back into Siem Reap is quieter; maybe everyone else is thinking about their own families or just letting the countryside sink in. I still think about that view over West Baray sometimes, especially when city noise gets too much.